


"Him."

by WincestOTP



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Forced Orgasms, M/M, Public Sex, mentions of blowjobs and other sexual acts, misha is an asshole at best, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 18:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13840428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WincestOTP/pseuds/WincestOTP
Summary: Jensen and Jared decide to indulge their exhibitionism kink at SDCC. What could go wrong?





	"Him."

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a question asked at LVCon 2018: What's the most embarrassing thing you've done at a con? What do you regret most? To which Jensen responded by pointing at Jared and saying, "Him."
> 
> I didn't mean for this story to get quite so dark...

“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done at a con? That you regret the most?” It’s a stupid question, one that can’t be answered honestly, of course--except that Jensen goes ahead proves him wrong. 

“Him,” Jensen says, deadpan, and points right at Jared. The audience goes wild, the way they always do when either of them drop innuendo, and all Jared can think about is _Jensen just told them all he fucked me at a con._ He doesn’t even care about the rest of the implications, because there’s been a few occasions where it _did_ up being embarrassing or regretful--that time Jensen had to send Clif back to the hotel for a new pair of jeans, for example, or--God. Jared doesn’t even want to _think_ about the absolute worst time, but of course his brain is going to drag him straight down memory lane. 

“God, Jay--feel so good--” Jensen’s gasping in Jared’s ear, sinking his teeth into the meat of his shoulder instead of his throat the way Jared knows he wants to, his hips stuttering even though his hand on Jared’s cock never falters. 

“Jen,” Jared moans, shoving back to take him even deeper, urging Jensen to fuck him faster, harder. Jensen hits his prostate dead on again and that’s all it takes, pleasure exploding through him in a wash of heat. He feels Jensen swelling inside him, that hot wetness that makes him feel used and owned and perfect and another shock rolls through him as Jensen swears low and rough in that deep, fucked out voice that Jared loves so much.

“ _Fuck._ ” Jensen pulls out of Jared reluctantly, kissing the purpling bruise on his shoulder in apology, even though he knows Jared doesn’t mind. Jared doesn’t have time to feel empty, though, the cool rubber of the plug Jensen had chosen nudging at his entrance immediately, sealing every drop Jensen had given him inside. “You sure about this, Jay?” Jensen asks, giving the plug a turn. Jared shifts experimentally and oh yeah. It’s sitting right against his prostate, sweet, merciless pressure that’s going to drive him insane all afternoon. 

“Oh, yeah,” Jared breathes, straightening up carefully. The plug shifts inside him then settles again, and if Jared could get hard again this quick, he’d be well on his way. “Love feeling you inside me, Jen.” 

Jensen runs his fingers over the hard rubber, tapping it just to watch Jared squirm. “You’re gonna be a mess when I really start playing with you,” he teases, and fishes the remote out of his pocket. He doesn’t turn it on, just dangles it temptingly in front of Jared as he turns around. It looks like a shiny black die, but instead of pips it has buttons and dials and textures decorating the sides. Jared licks his lips as Jensen swings it by it’s keychain and sticks it back in his pocket. “Better get you cleaned up,” he says, and drops to his knees as Jared groans above him. 

Their handler knocks on the door scant minutes after Jensen tucks Jared away, still shiny with his spit. Jared’s still licking his own taste out of Jensen’s mouth, chasing his lips with a whimper as he pulls away to open the door. _give us a sec_ he hears, and he can only imagine what the fan on the other side must think about Jensen’s kiss swollen lips and mussed hair. They both duck into the bathroom for a quick swish of mouthwash and comb through, smiling and shoving each other in front of the mirror, then one last kiss before they open the door again and allow the increasingly frantic volunteer to relax. 

The ride across town to where they’re meeting Zach is a taste of heaven and hell. Every bump in the road jostles the plug, rocking it against his sweet spot and creating just enough friction to drive him crazy. Halfway there Jensen gets a gleam in his eye and slides his hand into his pocket. Jared’s eyes roll back into his head and his breath stutters, hips jerking as the toy sends shockwaves through every nerve ending. 

“Oh my God,” he moans. Jensen’s watching him, eyes half lidded, teeth sunk into that obscene lower lip. They’ve never really done this in public before, and it changes everything, every sensation magnified by the knowledge that he can’t come, can’t even really make noise once they’re out of the car. And he’s completely at Jensen’s mercy. Thankfully Jensen turns the toy off again after about thirty seconds, leaving him gasping and achingly hard, but still marginally in control. 

“Gonna have to do better than that, Jared,” Jensen says, voice like silk over gravel and a filthy-hot smile curving his blowjob lips into an invitation to sin. “Never can tell what might happen--or when.”

Panic curls in Jared’s belly at the thought. “Jen,” he whispers. “Jen, I don’t know if I can. It’s just--it’s so--”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright.” Jensen’s serious in an instant, one hand holding Jared’s, the other on his knee. “You remember your word? We can call this off right now if you want.” That smile again, flooding his chest with warmth. “Just knowing you’re wearing that plug, that you’re walking around with me inside you, is so hot, babe. Anything you want, just say the word. Or don’t.”

Jared’s saved from answering right away by their arrival. They’re surrounded instantly, security and fans and handlers merging into a screaming blur as they exit their SUV. They wave to their fans and Jared blows a few kisses but they don’t stop, hustled along at breakneck speed toward the smaller, more intimate area where Zach has his NerdHQ fundraisers set up. After the craziness of Hall H and the general madness that is San Diego Comic Con, Jared and Jensen both are ready for a bit of a break. 

The relative quiet inside the building is a relief. Jared feels half drunk, walking carefully as he tries to ignore how fucking hot this thing is making him. Jensen’s eyes on him, his awareness of exactly what Jared is going through, turns him on even more. Every step rubs the toy all over his insides, and if even this short walk is driving him _this_ crazy, Jared has no idea how he’s going to make it through the rest of the day.  
“You’re doing great, babe.” The words are scarcely a whisper, Jensen leaning up til his lips are nearly touching Jared’s ear, a secret just for them. They help Jared feel steadier, more playful and less desperate, as does Jensen’s hand on the small of his back, warm and firm, until the ache in his groin is pleasurable rather than panic inducing. 

By the time they reach the green room, Mark, Misha, Richard and their handlers are already present, relaxing as they wait for their turn to go on stage. 

“‘Bout time you slackers got here,” Richard drawls, waving at them lazily from the overstuffed couch he’s apparently claimed as his own. 

Rob is there too, even though he’s not scheduled to be onstage, deep in conversation with Mark Sheppard. His guitar is resting across his lap and Jensen makes a beeline for the two of them, grabbing a chair and dragging it over to see what Rob and Mark are working on. Jared heads for the couch, nodding to Misha where he's sitting at the room’s sole table, which is small and round and draped in a cloth obviously meant for a much larger piece of furniture. Misha returns the gesture, scarcely looking up from his phone as Jared looms mock threateningly over Richard until he moves his legs with a melodramatic, put-upon _sigh_. 

Jared drops onto the couch without thinking, and his entire body spasms with the shock of pleasure that radiates through him. He shifts gingerly, hoping no one noticed, but he’s never been that lucky. 

“You alright, man?” Richard asks, raising an eyebrow, and flops his legs across Jared’s lap and right onto his half hard dick. He yanks his feet away, sitting up with an incredulous laugh. “Jesus Christ, dude. Put that thing away!”

“He can’t help it,” Misha says, still not looking up as he gestures toward Jensen. The room goes quiet, or maybe Jared can’t hear anything over his heart pounding, because there are _strangers_ here and Misha just tried to fucking out them. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Richard says hurriedly, giving Misha a _what the fuck_ look. “I hope you’re leaving comments on that fanfic you’re reading.”

“Fanfic?” Jensen says, looking up and sounding distinctly unamused. Jared knows he doesn’t _hate_ it, exactly, but he’s not much of a fan--he’s a little possessive about what he and Jared and Sam and Dean feel about each other. 

“Misha’s been reading J2 fic again,” Richard says sarcastically, rolling his eyes for effect. “Or maybe he’s just jealous.” Richard turns away from Misha, dismissing him. “Hey, Rob mentioned going out to dinner earlier, you guys in?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jensen says distractedly. If looks could kill, Misha would be a smoldering heap of ash on the carpet right about now, and the last thing they need are rumors getting out that there’s trouble on set. 

“Have a seat, Jackles,” Jared says, tugging Jensen down onto the couch with him when he wanders over. “We’ve still got a little bit before we’re up.” There’s a brief, uncomfortable silence before Richard jumps in to lighten the mood.

“Hey, did you guys see that incredible Impala costume earlier?” Richard asks, pulling out his phone to show them, and the conversation shifts to the amazing things they’d all seen earlier in the day. Pressed against Jensen shoulder to knee, Jared relaxes again, even shifting occasionally to get that quick spark of heat. He sees Jensen slide his hand into his pocket from the corner of his eye, and has just enough time to brace himself before the toy starts pulsating slowly, just enough to stroke his sweet spot with maddeningly firm pressure, over and over. He shivers, a deep breath shaking his whole body as he tries not to draw attention to himself or Jensen. No one seems to notice, thankfully, and he’s almost disappointed when the vibrations cease. 

Finally it’s time for their entrance. As overwhelming as it can be at times, Jared can’t deny there’s a part of him that loves this--the cheering, the excitement, the enthusiasm. The energy is high, despite the exhaustion everyone must be feeling, and it makes them all a little giddy as they laugh and joke and mess around with each other onstage. 

They’ve made it almost all the way through with no mishaps, just a lot of fun, when Jensen does it again. Jared doesn’t have his mic up, thank God, because he can’t help the sound he makes when the first pulse hits. There’s warmth this time too, mimicking the feel of Jensen moving inside him, and the combination is deliciously maddening. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s got his hand between his legs, stroking and pushing against the base of the plug, the heel of his palm dragging over his cock and Christ it feels incredible. He comes back to himself abruptly when Jensen cuts the signal, painfully hard and leaking in front of hundreds of fans and praying no one noticed him _touching himself_ on stage. 

The panel is over soon after, to Jared’s disappointment and relief. He loves interacting with the fans, but right now all he can think about is how much he needs Jensen, how much he needs to come. 

Jensen is smirking as they all head back to the green room. Jared hears him confirming their dinner plans with Richard, getting the name of the restaurant, but all he can concentrate on is the ache in his balls. He doesn’t realize the others have gone on ahead until the door closes behind them and they’re alone. 

“Jesus Christ, Jared,” Jensen breathes, shoving him against the door and kissing him. Jared groans into it, dragging Jensen’s hips forward until they’re grinding against one another like teenagers. “So fucking hot out there, making me crazy--”

“Making _you_ crazy?” Jared laughs a little wildly, kissing Jensen again frantically. “Fuck, Jensen, I was all but finger fucking myself on stage, God only knows what’s on video out there, I--”

Jensen cups Jared’s dick roughly, thumbing over Jared’s balls as he bites down on the tender skin of his ear. “I know. I saw. Damn near lost my mind right there on stage.” 

“Jen…”

Jensen reaches behind Jared, fumbling at the door handle, but there’s no lock. “Dammit,” he swears under his breath, then drags Jared further into the room, toward a door Jared hadn’t even noticed when they were here earlier. It’s a private bathroom--with, Jared is pleased to see, a door that locks. 

“Can’t wait to fuck you,” Jensen breathes, hands making quick work of Jared’s belt. “But first…” He pulls Jared’s hands behind his back, wrapping the belt around his wrists with quick, efficient twists. “I’m gonna watch you come apart for me, just like this.” He opens Jared’s jeans and tucks the waistband of his briefs behind his balls, leaving him fully exposed and on display. “God, you look beautiful like this.” 

“Fuck, Jen.” Jared’s voice is ragged and weak as he tries to catch his breath, already on edge, already desperate. “Do it--God-- _please_ \--”

“Shh,” Jensen whispers, pleased. He runs a hand through Jared’s sweaty hair. “I’m just gonna go put something in front of the door so if someone tries to come in at least we’ll have some warning.” 

The bathroom door is barely shut behind him when the toy inside Jared starts to move again, warmth flooding through him at the same time. He moans, hands clenching uselessly behind his back, struggling not to come before Jensen rejoins him. Then, through the haze of pleasure fogging his mind, he hears voices. 

“Misha...I thought you went ahead with the rest of the guys.” Jensen doesn’t sound thrilled to see their coworker. 

“No, I wanted to talk to you,” Misha says, friendly and cajoling. “You know, now that we won an award together, I think it’s time we acted a little more on that chemistry between us that the fans love so much.”

“We’ve talked about this before, Misha. You know that’s not how I play Dean,” Jensen says impatiently. “And I’m not going to start. Jared, Bob and I are all in agreement on this, and that is _not going to change._ ”

“Okay, okay, sorry I said anything.” Misha sounds almost hurt, and Jared wants to scream at him to just _go away_. “I just thought...you know, maybe…it could be you and me if you don't want to _sully_ Dean.”

Jensen sighs. “It’s okay, I’m just kind of over this whole thing, you know? It’s fine if fans want to have fun with it, but that’s all it is, a fan thing. And I definitely don’t think we, or you, should be encouraging them to ask for it in the show.” He ignores the rest of Misha's suggestion entirely. 

The sound of a chair being pulled out has Jared’s nerves stretched to the breaking point. He’s clinging to his control, trying not to make a sound though he’s desperate to come. He goes to his knees in relief when the pressure against his prostate suddenly stops, leaning his forehead against the cool tile counter. 

“It’s just kind of my thing, you know?” Misha says with a slight whine. “You know that’s the only reason they want me in the show. Why can’t you play into it just a little?”

“It’s not how I see Dean,” Jensen says again, starting to sound angry. “Look, this is a dead end. Let’s just go meet up with the others--”

“Oh, is this one of those fidget cubes?” Misha asks, and something in his voice sets off faint alarm bells in the part of Jared's brain that isn't preoccupied with his dick. “That seems more like Jared’s thing than yours.” 

“It’s nothing, just a toy. You can play with it later, if you want...but first let's go find Jared so we can meet up with everyone else.” The sudden friendliness in Jensen's voice is obviously fake, and Jared realizes with horror that Misha must have the remote. He writhes frantically, trying to get free and remove the toy, when it suddenly comes to life inside him--not the slow pulses that Jensen had started him out with, but a much faster vibration that’s accompanied by a creeping wetness that makes the sensation even more intense. It’s all Jared can do not to come instantly, pleasure so deep and strong it’s almost painful surging through him as he sinks his teeth into his lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“So...where _is_ Jared?” Misha asks, a sly edge creeping into his voice. “I don’t usually see you two apart at events like this--he’s like your security blanket, isn’t he?” 

The vibrations speed up and the toy begins to warm, intensifying the pleasure surging along Jared’s nerves. “Noooo,” he moans soundlessly, desperate not to come like this, but the vibrations continue relentlessly, exquisitely agonizing pleasure. Jared’s back arches and his head falls back, tears leaking from his eyes as his cock throbs and aches, as his balls draw up tight and full. He can’t think, can’t do anything but feel as heat pools in his stomach and at the base of his spine, threatening to overwhelm him completely.  
“In fact, I could have sworn I saw him come in here with you.” He pauses, and Jared knows the expression on his face, viciously smug. “Did you hear something?”

“No. Look, Jared’s probably waiting by the car with everyone else. Let’s go check,” Jensen says. There’s an edge to his voice now, and Jensen isn’t going to leave, is he? Jared wants to panic, wants to scream at Jensen not to leave him here, not like this, but he can’t. He can’t give them away completely, he can’t remove that last sliver of doubt. He can’t let Jensen down. 

“No rush, is there?” Misha says, silkily malicious. “I’m sure he’s….having fun, wherever he is. And I’m still having fun with your little toy.” Another pause, and Jared feels like he’s going to shake apart as Misha turns the toy up to what surely must be it’s top speed. His cock pulses and jerks, weeping and red and swollen. If he could catch his breath he’d be screaming as he comes, orgasm punched out of him with the force of a bullet hitting a vest. It doesn’t stop, nerves still firing randomly, pleasure turning to pain as the pressure on his prostate continues to build. He can’t hear what Jensen’s saying anymore, can’t tell if Misha is still in the other room, can’t think or see or breathe as every muscle in his body spasms again and again until the world goes dark. 

“Shh, shh, you’re okay.” Jensen sounds as wrecked as Jared feels. “I’m so sorry, Jay. God, I never--”

“Is he gone?” Jared wants to reassure Jensen, tell him he’s fine. Laugh it off--it's just sex, no harm done, right? But he can’t. He feels violated and used and dirty, and all he wants is for Jensen to hold him and tell him it’s going to be alright.

“He’s gone,” Jensen says reassuringly. “Come on, let’s get you up. I already told the guys you weren’t feeling so hot and we weren’t going to make it.”

“Okay.” Jensen helps him stand on shaky legs, pulling the belt loose from around his wrists and cleaning him up gently. His hands tingle with pins and needles, the least of his worries but it’s what he focuses on as Jensen tells him he needs to keep the plug inside him until they get back to the hotel room. 

Slowly, they put Jared back together. Face washed, stains scrubbed and dried as best they can. Hair finger combed, clothes as straightened as they can be. Jared leans against the counter and watches numbly as Jensen wipes his come off the floor and cabinets then flushes the whole mess. 

“He’s such an asshole,” Jensen says once they’re back at the hotel. He’s pacing back and forth while Jared watches from the armchair and drinks. “He knew what he was doing, I’m damn sure of that.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jared responds, voice slow and slurred. He touches his numb lips with numb fingers, surprised that he can feel anything at all. “The show must go on. They’re depending on us, it’s all on us.” 

“I’ll do my best to keep him away from you, Jay,” Jensen promises, kneeling next to the chair, taking the glass from Jared’s hand. “We’ll have them rewrite a few scenes, put me in your place. We’ll make it work, okay?” 

Jared nods, smiles, picks up his glass again with a hand that’s a lot less shaky with half a fifth of whiskey fortifying it. None of this is Jensen’s fault. Jared knows that. None of it is his fault, and Jared wants to tell him that. He wants to tell him that it’s not a big deal, that they’ll laugh about it later, that he guesses that will teach them to get kinky at a con but he can’t force the words out, so he lets more whiskey in instead. 

Maybe tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> I should note that I have never personally played with toys like this, and since I'm not a guy I don't know if this kind of over-stimulation is possible or particularly traumatic--I imagine that depends on the individual. Please forgive any seeming exaggerations, and feel free to offer suggestions if I've gotten something ridiculously wrong.


End file.
